


flesh into blossom

by heaveninbusan



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Bottom Han Jisung | Han, Dom Lee Minho | Lee Know, Don't Read This, Impact Play, Light BDSM, Lingerie, M/M, Not Beta Read, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prostate Milking, Sub Han Jisung, Sugar Daddy, Top Lee Minho | Lee Know, i cannot believe that's the last tag oh no, im really sorry, im sorry again, not a tag for some reason, porn but with some feelings, this has nothing to do with their personalities idk what i was thinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:55:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27719860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heaveninbusan/pseuds/heaveninbusan
Summary: jisung surprises his sugar daddy, minho, by wearing lacy lingeriethat's it that's the fic enjoy
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 18
Kudos: 338





	flesh into blossom

**Author's Note:**

> making my minsung writing debut with whatever the hell this is don't judge me too harshly for it
> 
> title from recreation by audre lorde

The idea comes to Jisung when Minho takes him out shopping one afternoon.

Of course, Minho gives him a _generous_ allowance that Jisung can use to take _himself_ shopping, but one of Minho’s favorite ways to kill an afternoon is meandering the stores in Gangnam and showering Jisung with new gifts, sitting on the plush cushioned armchairs in the fitting rooms and watching Jisung try everything on. 

They amble past La Perla with its golden arched windows and its scantily clad mannequins and when Minho thinks Jisung isn’t watching him, he inspects the displays, eyes lingering a little too long on the purples and pinks and laces and silks. Minho doesn’t say anything, but he swallows thickly, returning to their conversation and Jisung makes a mental note. He never would have guessed this is something Minho is into, but the idea of it alone has Jisung shivering despite the warm sun overhead. 

That night, after Minho drops a hefty sum at Chanel and L’Amitie, after Minho takes Jisung to his apartment where he ties Jisung’s hands to the headboard with silk cord and fucks him hard and deep into the mattress, Jisung goes home with images of La Perla in the back of his mind. He draws himself a bath with Epsom salts to help heal his bruises, and sinking into the tub, receives a notification of a bank transfer from Minho, an amount that covers all of his bills for the next two months. 

Jisung isn’t in it for the money, not anymore. It did start that way, of course, when Jisung was finishing his last year of law school and the course work was too much to bear while trying to make enough to keep a roof over his head. Jisung was working as a cater waiter to try to make some extra cash before the semester started, and ran into Minho outside of the hotel where that night’s event was being held. Jisung had been on hold with his credit card company when Minho interrupted him. Minho offered to help him, on the condition that Jisung would go out on a date with him. It didn’t take long for their arrangement to become formal, with allowances and gifts and scheduled time together. The relief had been immense. Without the looming threat of eviction or shut off notices, Jisung was able to pull his grades back up, work internships, and graduate with honors. 

But now, nearly a year later, it's more than that. It's more than the money and the gifts and the expensive restaurants. The pleasure he gets just from making Minho happy far outweighs any of that. They could cut all of that out and Jisung would stay.

Jisung's muscles relax in the steaming water, the scent of lavender clouding the air around him. As he rests his head against the ledge of the white clawfoot tub, he opens his phone to browse the La Perla website. The prices cause him to nearly drop his phone; having money still isn't something he's entirely used to. But when he sees the delicate pinks and champagnes, the intricately patterned lace, and imagines the look on Minho's face when he sees it, he's done for.

Soon enough, his cart is full of satins and silks in all shades from black to red to baby pink. He adds stockings and garters, too, mentally building the outfit he's going to wear over it. They have a date planned for early next week, a benefit dinner to which Minho asked Jisung to accompany him. He can wear it that night.

The package arrives the day of the gala and Jisung nearly squeals in excitement when he gets home that afternoon to find it sitting in front of his door. The nearly full iced americano in his hands is easily forgotten as he drops his things on the kitchen counter and runs to his bedroom to tear the box open. Inside, carefully wrapped in petal pink tissue paper, are all the items he ordered. They smell faintly like rose perfume and he thinks Minho will like that too. He wants nothing more than to try everything on and model for himself in front of the mirror--or maybe even send Minho a few risque pictures, but he holds off. He only has a few hours to get ready and he can't waste any time.

Minho has certain standards that he expects from Jisung when they go out. They're not hard to meet at all, and Jisung gladly does it all. He showers, exfoliates, and shaves almost everything from his legs to his face. Minho loves the smell of vanilla and makes sure that Jisung is well-stocked in all the products he wants Jisung to use. After applying all the necessary lotions and serums and moisturizers, Jisung gets to work on his makeup.

Makeup is something he's always loved to wear, and he was thrilled to learn that Minho loved seeing it on him. He goes for a more subtle look tonight, dark pinks and just a hint of a smoky red, not wanting to be too flashy where they're going to be photographed. He styles his hair off his forehead, then chooses dangling white gold earrings that Minho bought for him a few months ago. The tux Minho sent him hangs from a hook on his bedroom door, but that comes later.

Jisung finds his favorite set--black floral lace, so sheer and delicate he can hardly believe it holds together--and immediately wishes it came with an instruction manual. Jisung has never dealt with lingerie before, not wearing it himself or taking it off anyone. But eventually he manages, clipping the garters to the tops of his thigh high stockings. The image in the mirror looks unrecognizable, the garter belt accenting his small waist, the cut of the panties heightening the curve of his ass and just barely holding his half-hard cock in, the stockings clinging like a film to the cut of his calves. He's mesmerized and he _knows_ Minho is going to lose his mind.

His phone chimes from the nightstand with a text from Minho saying he's on his way, and Jisung has to tear his eyes from his own reflection and finish getting ready. The tux, of course, feels expensive on his skin, perfectly tailored to his measurements which Minho memorized a long time ago. He slips his phone and his wallet into his pockets and grabs his shoes, carrying them to the living room to meet Minho.

Just a moment later, there's a tap on the door signaling his arrival and Jisung opens the door to let him in. Minho looks breathtaking in an all black tux, a hint of edge with a chain brooch connecting the pocket to the lapel. His hair is swept back on one side, warm highlights framing his sharp face and Jisung wonders how the hell he got so lucky.

"Look at you," Minho says, lips pulling up in a crooked smile. He steps inside, his hand reaching for Jisung's waist as he plants a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth. "You look amazing."

"You should see my date."

Minho's smile is genuine and cute, all full pink lips and bunny teeth. When Jisung first met him, he never thought to ascribe the word cute to Minho, but as they've gotten to know each other, he's learned that Minho's cold exterior is just the tiniest part of who he is. There's sweetness underneath, warm and soft and gentle.

"Are you ready?" Minho asks.

"I don't know, after seeing you in this tux I kind of want to stay in tonight," Jisung says.

"Trust me, this is one of the last places I want to be, but I have to make an appearance." He pulls Jisung closer, leading him through the door and out of the apartment. "I'll make it quick. It'll be over before we know it."

"I might have a surprise for you later."

Minho quirks a brow at him, devilishly handsome while doing the most mundane acts like pressing the elevator call button. His other hand never leaves Jisung's side, warmth flowing through the layers of fabric separating them. "I can't wait."

"Neither can I," Jisung says, leaning into the touch. "I hope you'll like it."

The elevator door slides open behind Minho and he moves to the side to allow Jisung through first. The door closes them into the empty car and before Minho hits the lobby button, he presses in close to Jisung, hand reaching up to cup the side of Jisung's face. "Whatever it is, if it's from you, I know I will," he says quietly. Then he presses his lips to Jisung's in a tender kiss, Jisung's blood rushing to all the places where their bodies touch.

  
Minho is nothing if not true to his word.

The dinner is more of a gala hosted in the atrium of a new hospital, and to Jisung's eyes, it seems as if a thousand potential donors have been invited. Their limo pulls into the circular drive, the last in a long line of similar black sedans and limousines. Photographers line the sidewalk surrounding the front doors, their flashes blinding even from the car. Minho steps out of the limousine, straightening his lapels and giving a bright smile to all the cameras aimed in his direction before reaching his hand down for Jisung to take.

From there it's a blur, as these events usually are. Jisung spends his time hanging from Minho's arm and politely declining all the wine and champagne shoved in his direction. As the CEO of a large pharmaceutical equipment company, Minho is a hot commodity, everyone vying for his attention. He's polite and whip smart and easily blends in with whomever he's talking with. It makes Jisung's head spin, going from conversation to conversation, watching Minho slip easily between talking money, talking drinks, and talking up businessmen's wives. What _really_ makes his head spin, though, are the quick, bruising kisses Minho presses against his mouth in the quiet moments they can steal away. They leave him breathless and dizzy and ready for more.

When Jisung first started to attend these events, he felt shy and out of his league, embarrassed to even been seen in such company. He was a student, without much to show for his name. But now, thanks to Minho's help, he's able to boast about his achievements--or, more accurately, stand by while Minho brags about him. One thing Jisung didn't anticipate when he met Minho was all of Minho's connections, and now Jisung has a highly sought for position as part of a corporate law team--something he can add to his resume when chatting up Minho's peers.

He thinks, though, that he wouldn't even need the academic and career successes to boost his confidence tonight. The lace he wears under his tux makes him feel powerful enough.

Every once in a while, Minho's hand will skim along his backside or, if they're sitting down, graze over Jisung's thighs, and Jisung has to hold his breath. The garments are wholly unknown to him and he's not sure how they feel through the fabric of his suit. But Minho doesn't seem to notice anything's amiss, quietly sipping at his wine or shooting Jisung a soft, private smile while they engage in conversation with the people around them.

Jisung gets caught between a judge and a hospital administrator, each telling him about their children's sports endeavors. It could be comical, if it was happening to anyone besides himself. After the tenth picture of their toddlers kicking a too-big soccer ball around some patchy grass, Jisung runs out of things to say, frantically searching for Minho's face in the crowd behind the judge's shoulders. He's ready to give up when he feels an arm wrap around his waist and Minho's warm breath in his ear.

"I'm ready to rip that tux right off of you as soon as we get to the car," he whispers in Jisung's ear. To any outsider, it probably looks innocent, like Minho is simply telling Jisung it's time to go. But Minho's words shoot right between Jisung's legs, leaving him wanting, chasing after Minho's touch as he pulls away to address the woman Jisung has been talking to.

Jisung hardly pays attention to the rest of Minho's words, his head buzzing with anticipation for what's to come. He's been waiting all night, no, _all week_ for this, and his patience is wearing thin. He follows Minho back through the grand entryway and through the crowd of photographers to the waiting limo, door already propped open and ready for them to climb inside. The back seat is filled with silence as they pull away from the hospital, but once they're clear of prying eyes, Minho pulls Jisung closer to him, lifting one of Jisung's legs and sitting him in his lap.

"Sorry that took so long," Minho says, eyes studying Jisung's face while his hands trace over his thighs, the space between his hips and the clips of the garters. "A lot of people in there pretending they're interested in anything other than money."

Jisung pouts. Sometimes Minho gets like this, sure the world only wants him for one thing. It hurts, seeing Minho feel that way about himself, but Jisung doesn't know the words to make it better, not without crossing the unspoken boundary they've put between themselves.

"You don't have to apologize for anything," Jisung answers. His hands find Minho's shoulders where he massages some of the tension away, feeling Minho relax beneath him. "You know I'm happy to accompany you any time."

"You're too good to me," Minho says with a smile.

"You deserve it." Jisung continues to work the muscles in Minho's neck and shoulders, studying Minho's face. His lips look so full and soft and pink that Jisung has no choice but to lean down and press a kiss onto them, soft and sweet. "I thought you said something about ripping this tux off..."

Minho smiles, keeping his eyes closes as his hands continue to run up and down Jisung's legs. "It looks too good on, I couldn't destroy it."

"You're right, I do look good. You have great taste."

Minho's eyes peek open, catching Jisung's cheeky grin. "Come back here," he says, voice full of endearment. Jisung listens, leaning back down to capture Minho's mouth in a kiss again.

Minho's lips are soft and warm against Jisung's, moving lazily as they drive through the city toward Minho's Gangnam apartment. Minho takes his time, no real intent to heat things up or chase any friction. He works Jisung's mouth open slowly, hands holding him by the waist. Jisung used to get impatient when Minho would kiss him like this; he'd get so worked up so easily, wondering what the point was to all this kissing if it wasn't going to lead anywhere. But now he thinks it's one of his favorite things, could close his eyes and let it go on forever if he had the chance.

Even with his newfound patience, it doesn't take long for Minho's mouth alone to rile Jisung up. He grows half hard in his pants, cock pressing against the delicate lace of his panties, and remembering he's wearing them sends a bolt of heat through him, making all the tension that much harder to handle. He whines into Minho's kisses and he can file Minho smile against his lips.

"We're almost there," he says with a smirk, patting Jisung's ass gently to signal to get up. Jisung pouts again, surprised by how desperate he feels from just kissing. Maybe he should dress like this all the time.

After just a few minutes, filled by the both of them fixing themselves to look presentable, the limousine pulls up alongside the curb in front of Minho's apartment building. Minho leads the way once again, hand at the small of Jisung's back as they greet the doorman, and make their way up to the penthouse. Jisung feels goosebumps flare wherever Minho touches him.

"So what about that surprise?" Minho asks as he types the passcode into the pin pad at his front door. The apartment is cool and dark when he lets them inside.

"In due time," says Jisung. The door shuts behind them and he presses Minho against it lightly, going up onto his toes for a quick kiss before sinking down to his knees to untie Minho's shoes. He slips them off one by one while Minho strokes a hand through his hair, face lit by a soft smile. It's not something Minho's ever asked him to do, but Jisung loves doing it anyway, massaging a hand over Minho's taut calf muscle.

"What would I do without you?" Minho asks cheekily as Jisung stands again.

"Probably kick off your shoes like the rest of us peasants," Jisung laughs, doing just that before adding them to the rack just inside the door.

"Shut up and come here."

"Yes, daddy, boss me around."

Minho gives Jisung a look that says he'll pay for that later before letting out a huff of laughter and pressing a smiling kiss to Jisung's lips.

Despite Jisung's joking, it doesn't take long for him to fall silent and soft under Minho's touch. He practically melts into him, chests pressed together as Minho's hands trail from Jisung's waist, even lower, sending a flood of warmth through him. He opens his mouth for Minho's tongue and whines when the kiss ends too soon.

"Needy?"

"Always," Jisung pouts.

"Come on, baby."

Jisung lets out a squeak of surprise when Minho bends, lifting Jisung into his arms to carry to his bedroom. Jisung holds onto his shoulders, feeling the muscle there tense. It's hot. Minho's hot. It's intoxicating that someone like Minho would want _him_ but he tries his best to always match Minho in his own ways, making Minho's time and attention worth it.

Minho sets him down just inside the doorway and locks their lips together again. Already riled up from the car ride home, Jisung makes quick work of the buttons of Minho's jacket, slipping it down off Minho's shoulders and tossing it to a chair in the corner. Minho steps away to allow Jisung to do the same with his own jacket, eyes raking Jisung from head to toe.

"My surprise? I can't figure out what it is," Minho asks, licking his lips. His hair is disheveled already, his lips deep red and shining, cheeks tinted with color. "Is it something you're going to do?"

"Hmm, no, I don't think so," Jisung teases, loosening his tie.

"Well it can't be something you brought with you," Minho muses.

Jisung shakes his head, undoing the top few buttons of his shirt. "No, not that either." He stops halfway down, right above his waist where the garter belt sits. "Why don't you come over here and find out," he says, sinking onto the bed.

Minho laughs darkly, crossing the bedroom floor in two strides, to shove himself between Jisung's legs and push him down onto the mattress. Minho's mouth finds Jisung's neck and his hands find Jisung's belt, and Jisung is coming undone in mere seconds.

"What's this?" Minho asks as he pulls on the waistband of Jisung's slacks, revealing the first hints of black lace. Jisung can feel his cheeks heating up, breath caught in his throat while he waits for Minho's reaction. For a terrible, fleeting second, Jisung wonders if he miscalculated, if he read Minho's face all wrong that day outside of La Perla.

But then he pulls Jisung's pants the rest of the way off, discarding them onto the floor, and his expression is _dark_ and there's no way for Jisung to misread it.

"Get up on the bed so I can look at you," Minho says, his voice dark to match his eyes, laced with a bit of an edge.

Jisung shivers, pushing himself up to the headboard to lean against the pillows. With his shirt open, tie loose, and cock straining against the delicate lace, Jisung's sure he looks amazing, and being stared at only serves to further turn him on.

" _Fuck,"_ Minho breathes, tracing one hand up Jisung's legs, fingers lingering on the hem of the stocking. He flicks open the clip holding it in place. "I was going to take my time tonight but I don't think I can now."

"You like?"

"Like you have to ask, you brat."

Minho pushes Jisung's legs open, bending one knee up to his chest. Every touch sets Jisung further on edge, from the way Minho trails his fingers all over his thigh, or the way Minho grabs him by the waist, making him feel so, so small.

In spite of Minho's comment about _not taking his time,_ he does just that, slotting himself between Jisung's legs. He attaches his lips once again to Jisung's neck, nibbling down, and Jisung can practically feel the blood vessels burst into a bruise he'll wear proudly tomorrow. The way it feels like Minho _worships_ him goes straight to his head, and his dick, and has him curling his toes, letting out a mewling whine.

“What do you want tonight, hm?” Minho breathes against Jisung’s neck as he places kiss after kiss all along the sensitive skin there. 

Jisung takes a moment to think, closing his eyes and enjoying the sensation of Minho’s hands on him. Minho is always generous, in all parts of his life, but especially in the bedroom, giving Jisung anything he asks for. He’s rough when Jisung wants it, ties him up, leaves bruises and marks and welts. Sometimes Minho deprives him, when Jisung is acting up, knowing the only way to get Jisung in line is to make him wait. And sometimes, Minho will simply use him, fuck him like he’s nothing more than a hole, tearing him apart so he can stitch him back together later on.

Lying on the bed, dressed up all pretty in lace, Jisung imagines how his skin would look all red and bruised next to the sweet floral pattern and he knows exactly what he wants. 

“Test me,” he whines into the small space separating them. Their noses bump together as Minho stares into his eyes. 

“What did you say?” Minho asks.

Heat flares across Jisung’s skin. They’ve done nothing more than kiss but Minho’s gaze alone has him squirming, the low tone in his voice sending that warmth further south. “Test me, sir,” Jisung says, correcting himself.

“Much better, but don’t you remember last time?” Minho asks, kissing the tip of Jisung’s nose sweetly, which is never a good sign for Jisung.

“I’ll do better this time, sir,” Jisung promises.

Minho studies his face for a moment, eyes squinting into slits before he says, “I think you just like it. Turn over.”

Jisung allows himself to be manhandled, Minho’s grasp on him tight and sure as he turns Jisung over, face down on the pillow. Then Minho grabs him by the hips, pulling him up onto his knees, face still buried in the sheets.

“Now don’t move. I know I don’t have to tie you up, right? Because my baby always listens.”

“Yes, sir,” Jisung answers, voice muffled. 

Facing away with his eyes shut, Jisung’s nerve endings come alive. The slightest brush of Minho’s finger tips leaves a trail of goosebumps behind. Jisung holds his breath, focusing on the touch as Minho toys with the hem of the panties. A second later, a harsh slap lands on Jisung sensitive skin and he yelps into the pillow, face heating with arousal and shame.

“I have to leave for a moment, okay? And you better be just like this when I get back.”

“Yes, sir.”

Jisung feels the weight of the mattress move as Minho gets up off the bed. The air around him already feels cooler with Minho gone, and he feels exposed, everything right there in the open. He arches his back and wiggles his hips a bit, hoping for some attention from Minho, but the best he gets is a low laugh. He knows better than to try anything else, instead focusing on keeping his breathing even while he listens to Minho move around the room. The familiar clink of metal on the glass-topped dresser followed by the swish of fabric tells him Minho’s removed his cufflinks and rolled up his sleeves. All his senses are heightened and it almost seems like he can _feel_ Minho’s presence against his skin. 

Jisung gasps when he hears Minho leave the room, the door clicking shut behind him. He wants to whine, to squirm, but he knows better, knows that Minho will somehow hear him and _know._ He also knows that Minho understands him too well, that Minho knows this is the best way to get him to fall into subspace, the best way to get Jisung to _listen._

The worst part of this is not knowing when Minho will come back. Jisung can make guesses based on the time of night and what Minho has planned for later. But the next day is wide open, a weekend, which means they can play long into the night if Minho so wishes. It's dizzying, sitting on the edge like this.

For a while, all Jisung can focus on is the cool air over his exposed skin and waiting for Minho to come back. But it seems readily apparent that Minho is taking his time tonight. Soon enough Jisung starts to get impatient and uncomfortable. It's late and his shoulders are tired and the lace of his panties is constricting in a way he's never experienced before. But he knows he has to ignore all of that, because if he does, Minho will give him what he asks for.

Jisung closes his eyes, focusing instead on the softness of the sheets against his cheek and the way he feels, desirable and pretty and small. He lets his mind wander to what Minho might do when he comes back, his mind filling with memories of their last play sessions together. The silk cords tying his hands, the dark bruises from Minho's fingers digging into the flesh of his hips. Before long, he feels a bit fuzzy, joints relaxing until his chest is flat on the bed as well.

He loses track of time this way and has no idea how much has passed by the time he hears Minho reenter the bedroom. With all of his senses clouded, he's almost shocked when he feels a gentle, warm hand run down his spine.

"Feeling okay, baby?" Minho asks, voice soft as he rubs soothing patterns along Jisung's back.

"Yes, sir."

"Good. You can get up now," Minho says, even as he reaches down to help Jisung do just that. He sits beside Jisung on the bed and presses their lips together in a slow kiss. "Pick one."

Jisung looks down between them where Minho holds three toys in his hand. A flogger with long, black leather tails; a crop; and a dark red leather paddle dotted with holes. Jisung's blood warms at the sight of them, anticipating what's to come next. He takes the paddle from Minho's hands, weighing it while Minho sets the other two toys aside. This is Minho's favorite, Jisung knows that; he loves the marks it leaves behind on Jisung's skin.

"Good choice, baby," Minho says, rewarding Jisung with another kiss. "You can lie back down again. Face up."

Jisung follows Minho's instructions, resting his head against one of the plush pillows. He watches as Minho crawls onto the bed, too, hovering above him, looking devastating with his tie gone, his shirt unbuttoned, forearms exposed by the rolled up sleeves. The look on his face is intense, dark, the angles of his face sharp and almost _too_ beautiful to look at directly. He slides his hands over Jisung's thighs and hips and waist again, and Jisung arches his back into the touch.

"Hands on the headboard," Minho says, watching as Jisung does as he is told, gripping the cool metal bars. "Very good. Now, you hold still. Don't move. If you do, you know what happens, don't you?" Minho eyes the paddle sitting on the pillow beside Jisung.

Jisung nods his head, letting out another breathless, "Yes, sir."

Minho starts with Jisung's leg, pulling it up to rest on his shoulder and raking his nails down the soft skin of Jisung's inner thigh. The gentle scratches bring his nerves to life and even though he wants more, he always wants more, all he can do is lie back and watch. Minho pulls the thigh-high down agonizingly slowly, placing kiss after kiss along each new inch of exposed skin, his stubble coarse over where Jisung had just shaved that afternoon. The contrast of the rough texture and the smoothness of Minho's palm as he runs it higher and higher up Jisung's inner thigh drives him crazy.

"You really do look gorgeous, all dressed up for me," Minho purrs, fingers still tracing intricate patterns up and down Jisung's leg. He stops just short of where Jisung most aches to be touched, smiling when he sees the desperation on Jisung's face. "My pretty little doll, hm?"

Jisung nods, words cut off in his throat as Minho tracks a single finger from the base of Jisung's cock to the tip. Jisung gasps, biting down on his lip to keep from moving and chasing after more.

Minho doesn't give him what he wants, of course not. Instead, he moves to Jisung's other leg to give it the same treatment, unclipping the garter and pulling down the stocking. His breath is warm against Jisung's inner thigh, his lips soft as he attaches them to the delicate skin over and over. It's torture, how slow he moves, taking his time to wind Jisung up like a coil ready to snap. With the stockings gone, he runs both hands over the length of Jisung's legs, to his hips, and then up to his waist, pinning him down. Jisung lets out a whine as Minho grinds his hips down, their cocks sliding together, separated by lace and the fabric of Minho's slacks.

Minho seems to take pity on him, slowing his movements so he can lean down and swipe the bangs off Jisung's forehead. His expression is all softness as he plants a sweet kiss on Jisung's lips. Jisung just wants to hold onto him, runs his hands through Minho's hair, but he holds onto the headboard, desperately craving the weight of Minho on top of him.

What he gets instead is Minho pulling _his_ hair, gently tugging until Jisung cranes his neck to expose his throat, where Minho sucks bruises until Jisung is breathless. His other hand snakes down Jisung's chest, over the garter belt and teases as the elastic waistband of the panties where Jisung's cock still pushes against the lace, throbbing painfully. Minho's mouth follows the same path, nipping at Jisung's skin here and there, licking across the ridges of Jisung's abs. Jisung's breath sticks in his chest as he fights the urge to squirm.

Minho finally, finally sinks lower, grabbing Jisung by the back of each thigh and holding him down. He licks over the lace, tongue laving from the base of Jisung's cock over the prominent vein to the tip, and Jisung can't hold back anymore. He lets out a high pitched keen, hips jerking despite Minho's strong hands holding him in place and Minho immediately sits up. He turns Jisung onto his side and slaps him, hard, on his ass, the smack ringing in the silence of the room.

"What did I say?" Minho says, rubbing his hand over the spot where he just spanked him.

"I'm sorry, sir, I--it just felt so good." Jisung whines, tears stinging the corners of his eyes as he catches his breath.

"Next time it's the paddle."

Minho pushes him back down, not giving Jisung a chance to react before he's lowering himself again and pushing the panties to the side. He doesn't even spare Jisung a glance as he sinks his mouth down over Jisung's cock, rubbing the leaking tip over his lips. The sight is almost too much for Jisung to even look at, Minho's lips shining and red as he works them over the head, taking Jisung in little by little. When he swirls his tongue, Jisung's hips rock forward again.

He tried not to, he really did, but he can't say he regrets it, knowing what's coming.

Minho sits up again, cool air over Jisung's wet cock heightening all his senses. Once more, Jisung is thrust onto his side and he isn't ready when the paddle hits him with a loud _smack._ He lets out a long whine, the sting and the thud and the dull ache of Minho's fingers digging into the flesh of his thigh all clouding together in his mind. Minho soothes over the spot where the paddle met skin.

"One day you'll learn," he says.

It starts over again and Jisung makes a concerted effort to hold still. Even as Minho takes him all the way in, breath fanning against Jisung's lower abdomen as he swallows around his cock. Even as he works him up and down in long, deep strokes, one hand cupping his balls while the other pins his leg to his chest. He holds on until he's close, _so close,_ and the heat building through him burns too hot for him to hold still anymore. His knuckles are white where he holds onto the headboard, and he bites down on the inside of his cheek, breath coming out in labored pants. But then Minho flicks his tongue just right, over the frenum, and Jisung bucks wildly once again.

This time the smack of the paddle cracks loud enough to ring in Jisung's ears and he's sure it will leave a gorgeous bruise later on. He whines, shuffling closer to the warmth of Minho's body, mumbling incoherently, eyes screwed shut.

"What's that, baby?" Minho asks, smoothing the warm leather of the paddle over the growing sore spot on Jisung's ass.

"Another, sir," Jisung breathes.

Minho laughs cruelly. "You like it too much, my little pain slut." His voice is affectionate, but Jisung gasps at the name anyway and before he knows it, he hears the slap of leather on skin before he can even feel it, skin tingling. "Turn over."

Jisung does as he told, his entire body radiating with chills, his mind unable to discern between the pleasure of Minho's mouth and hands and the pain from the paddle. He shivers as he leans his face into the pillows, knees bent and legs spread, waiting. He can hear Minho moving behind him, sliding open the drawer of the nightstand. A second later, his hands are back on Jisung's waist, massaging gently. His fingers tease over the waistband and hem of the panties, plucking at the elastic to watch it snap back in place against Jisung's skin. The small stinging sensations feel _good,_ and Jisung lets out a long sigh.

A moment later Minho stretches the panties to the side, fully exposing Jisung's hole, and Jisung hears the cap of a bottle snapping open just a second before he feels the cold drip of lube sliding over his entrance. He gasps, arching towards Minho. The first finger is teasing, slowly circling Jisung's rim until he relaxes, before Minho slides it inside. Jisung whines again, voice muffled, cock hanging rock hard and heavy between his legs. Minho adds another, easily slipping it in with the first and spreading them, scissoring Jisung open. His hands are deft and skilled and know all the ways to touch Jisung and take him apart. Jisung shakes with the strain of holding himself up, crying out as Minho flutters his fingers over his prostate.

Jisung doesn't even notice the sounds of Minho undoing his belt buckle or unzipping his pants, but the snap of the lube bottle opening again makes it to his ears, and second later, Minho pulls his fingers out, quickly replacing them with the blunt tip of his cock. He teases at Jisung's entrance, sliding between his cheeks, over his balls and back to his hole again. Tears leak from Jisung's eyes with _want_ and he fully sobs when Minho finally pushes inside him.

The long, drawn out _Jisung_ that slips through Minho's lips has Jisung's cock twitching, leaking down onto the blanket below him.

The stretch stings, aches, Minho's cock too thick to take in one go. He pumps into him, slow, small thrusts until he bottoms out and Jisung has to catch his breath. Minho slides his hands over Jisung's back and sides in an attempt to help calm him down. The tension rolls off his body in waves Jisung can feel, but he waits for Jisung's go-ahead before he starts moving.

He starts slow and deep, getting Jisung's body used to the movement and the stretch. As he picks up his pace, he angles away from Jisung's prostate, and this is when Jisung really loses himself. Nothing more than a hole for Minho to use as he wants, Jisung grips the edge of the mattress, holding himself as still and sturdy as possible as Minho fucks into him. Minho is relentless as he pushes into him, using his hands to spread Jisung even further, fucking as deep as he can go. Jisung's mind fogs over, nothing reaching him except for the feeling of each drag in and out, the head of Minho's cock catching on his rim, and the harsh sting of the occasional spank calling him back to the surface.

Minho pulls out and turns Jisung over onto his back, lowering his body between Jisung's legs, hovering over him. Their eyes meet, and despite the rough pace and the harsh dig of Minho's fingers into his skin, Minho's gaze is gentle and searching. Jisung leans forward, lips pouting for a kiss and Minho indulges him, slotting their mouths together.

"So beautiful, Sungie," Minho whispers as he slides his cock back inside him. "Such a beautiful little doll." Each word is punctuated by the pistoning of Minho's hips. He takes one of Jisung's legs and slings it over his shoulder, cock slamming into Jisung's prostate with every move. 

Jisung reaches between them, trembling hands fumbling with the buttons of Minho's shirt. He just wants to feel him, drink in the warmth of Minho's skin on his. Minho seems to get the message, leaning back onto his knees to finish unbuttoning his shirt. He pulls it off, tosses it onto the floor, and does the same with the black tee underneath, before lowering himself back down until their chests are flush together. Jisung sighs at the contact, wrapping his arms around Minho's neck and holding him closer.

He isn't sure what has changed or what comes over him, but suddenly Jisung is overwhelmed with the need to be even closer, somehow, to Minho. He wraps a leg around Minho's waist, pulling him in deeper, letting out a breathy moan. Minho's hands grip his shoulders tightly, aches blooming from the spot where his fingers dig into the bone. His pace grows erratic and he smashes their mouths together. The kiss is more painful than anything, but it's over quickly as Minho pulls out, lifting himself onto his knees over Jisung. He strokes himself a few times, head thrown back, chest glistening with sweat, and a few seconds later he spills over his hand and onto Jisung's stomach.

For a moment Minho just sits there, catching his breath, and Jisung watches him. His skin is peachy gold and glowing, sweat drips from his temples, and his lips look swollen, almost bruised. Jisung aches all over, especially his thighs and his cock, and it's almost like Minho reads his mind when he meets his eyes with a sideways grin.

"You okay down there?" Minho asks. He moves Jisung's leg out of the way so he can lie down beside him. With his head propped on his clean hand, he uses the other to wrap around Jisung's shaft, moving in slow experimental strokes.

"I'm good, sir," Jisung says, breath catching when Minho touches him.

"Do you want to come?" Jisung nods. "What do you say?"

"Please, please, please." The words come out in airy whispers.

Minho's mouth meets his again as he slides his fingers lower to circle around Jisung's entrance again. Pushing two in takes no effort at all and Jisung rolls his hips, seeking more. But then Minho curls his fingers forward, finding Jisung's prostate, and Jisung gasps loudly into Minho's mouth. He doesn't let up, tips of his fingers massaging over it until Jisung's legs are shaking and he's clinging to Minho's shoulders, voice cracking in his throat as he whines. It's almost too much, _too good,_ and Jisung looks down to see white fluid leaking from the tip of his cock. But it's not an orgasm, it's something more, because his orgasm is building inside him slowly, threatening to spill over any second.

"That's right baby, come on, come for me," Minho coos against Jisung's ear.

Minho lifts himself until he's once again over Jisung, angled right to allow his hand to go harder, deeper. Jisung can't take it anymore, nails digging into Minho's shoulder and wrist where he holds on, barely keeping himself together. Pleasure rolls through him as he finally finds release, coming nearly untouched all over himself. Minho keeps massaging his prostate as Jisung sobs. He can't tell if it hurts or if it feels good but one thing he's sure about is he's never felt something like that before and he wants to do it again.

"Good?" Minho asks, pulling his fingers out as Jisung collapses onto his back. Jisung can't even string together two words right now and his body is completely useless to him. He tries to lift his hand to acknowledge Minho but he can't even do that very well. Minho laughs at him, leaning down to kiss him gently on the lips. "I need to clean you up, so I have to leave for a minute. Are you okay with that?"

Jisung's chest fills with a new kind of warmth, looking up at Minho's gentle smile. He hums in response, pouting his lips until he gets another kiss. Then Minho is gone. But it only lasts a few minutes before he's back with towels and a bottle of water and an ice pack. The fog in Jisung's mind begins to lift as Minho wipes his skin clean, and he's able to sit up and sip on the water.

"You were amazing," Minho says, massaging the muscle of Jisung's thigh.

"You were better."

The smile Minho gives him is radiant. "Does it hurt?"

"Not yet but it probably will tomorrow."

"I don't think it'll bruise, honestly, I was being gentle."

Jisung looks up at Minho's face to see the wry grin there, cheeky as ever. He laughs when he sees Jisung's mouth hanging open.

"Here," he says with a smile, wrapping a towel around the ice pack. "Use this while I start the shower."

"Thank you."

Jisung watches Minho disappear into the bathroom. The shower starts a few seconds later and he reappears a few moments after that, his earrings are gone and he holds a few makeup wipes in his hand, passing them to Jisung. Jisung wipes away whatever makeup is left on his face while Minho helps remove his jewelry with gentle fingers. Then Minho pulls him to his feet, helping him step out of the messy lingerie.

"You good?" Minho asks.

"Perfect."

They shower quickly, Minho washing all the parts that Jisung struggles to reach due to his aching joints and muscles. The hot water helps him relax and by the time Minho is rinsing the shampoo from his own hair, Jisung is ready for bed. He has a few racks of clothes in Minho's closet, where he searches for something soft and comfortable while Minho strips off the dirtied duvet. The silence between them is comfortable, something Jisung can wrap around himself like a blanket. The way they weave around each other in Minho's bedroom like they've been doing it for years, fully aware of the other's presence and needs, it's enough to fill Jisung's heart to bursting. When he finally crawls into bed, resting his head on Minho's chest and listening to his heartbeat, he decides there's nowhere he'd rather be. Minho hums quietly, stroking his fingers through Jisung's still-damp hair, and plants a kiss to the crown of his head.

The bedroom is dark, the only light coming from a small nightlight in the hallway filtering through a crack in the door. Jisung settles deeper under the blankets, cheek pressed against Minho's bare skin.

"You still awake?" Minho asks quietly, whispering just in case.

"Mhm."

"I think we should talk," he says. "Well, no. I have something to say, to ask you, and you don't have to say anything right now or make a decision too quickly, but I just need to get it out there."

Jisung sits up, facing Minho. He's never heard Minho rambling before and his heart picks up, unsure of where this is going. "What is it?" he asks, taking Minho's hand.

"I know how and why we started seeing each other. I've done this before, but it's never been the way it is with you." He sighs, pausing for a moment. "Maybe I'm completely out of line here, and if I am, I genuinely apologize. I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable. But I have real, deep feelings for you Jisung and I think you feel it too."

Jisung freezes. He doesn't know what to say. His mind races back to nine months ago, when they talked about their expectation. Neither one of them were looking for a relationship--companionship, sure. But not commitment, not sharing a life or making decisions together. Their arrangement was mutually beneficial at the time, and they got along well. But Minho's right, Jisung _does_ feel the growing spark between them, has thought about it several times over by now.

"I don't know how much I want our relationship to change," Minho adds. "I love what we have, but I just want more. I want you to be there every morning when I wake up, not just the weekends. I want to introduce each other to our friends, family. I want to spend relaxing nights on the couch with you, not just these fancy events where I need a date. Please say something or I'm going to have a heart attack."

Jisung laughs, collapsing onto Minho's chest for a second. Tears prick the corners of his eyes and his throat aches with unspent emotion. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I just don't know what to say."

"Say what you're thinking. Good or bad, I want to hear what you have to say. I can take it. Even if you don't feel the same way."

"No, no, I feel the same way." Jisung squeezes his hand. "I've felt it for a while now, but I didn't want to cross any boundaries."

Jisung can feel the way Minho sags with relief. He sits up, cupping Jisung's face with one hand and pressing their lips together. The kiss is sweet and full of everything Minho just struggled to say. Jisung holds onto his wrist, smiling against Minho's lips.

"Thank god," Minho laughs, breath fanning across Jisung's cheek. “I really thought I fucked that one up.”

Despite the waves of relief running through him, Jisung is still exhausted, his whole body aching just trying to hold himself upright. He kisses Minho one more time before pulling away to say, "Can we talk about this more tomorrow though? I'm _exhausted."_

"Shit, I'm sorry, yes. Of course." Minho lies back down, opening his arms for Jisung.

They settle back down, though Minho's heart beats an erratic rhythm against Jisung's ear as he gently strokes his fingers up and down Jisung's back. He's warm and soft and Jisung squeezes his arms around Minho's middle. As sleep looms over him, his eyelids drooping, he hears Minho's faint whisper into the quiet.

"I love you, Jisung."

"I love you too."

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> if you made it here congrats and apologies  
> follow me on [twt](http://twitter.com/linosonlyfans) if you want


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